


66. Fall Out

by glitteredsins, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Antony Starr and Stephen Amell [66]
Category: Actor RPF, Arrow (TV 2012) RPF, Banshee (TV) RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), New Zealand Actor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 09:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6323941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteredsins/pseuds/glitteredsins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warnings: none</p>
    </blockquote>





	66. Fall Out

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: none

Stephen's tired, it'd been a long day and on top of a demanding schedule he'd had to contend with the fall out of his shattered head space from the previous evening. Even so, he's putting on a good show, it's Antony's last night at home for a week and he's determined to make it a good one.

"Scotch?" he offers, as he collects their plates and heads for the kitchen.

"Mm, yeah, that'd be great, thanks," Antony says, moving from the table to the couch. "I don't know if I'd make that again," he muses, stretching out until Stephen finishes cleaning up. "It was good but I'm not sure it was good enough for the amount of work that went into it."

Stephen casts his lover a look. Antony seems a little off tonight, not bad tempered, but maybe a little out of sorts. So far he's put that down to the after effects of their ruined scene and the discomfort of his shoulder. Two glasses, one with a slightly 'healthier' amount of scotch and then Stephen's returning to take a seat beside his lover. "Here."

Antony shifts upright, biting back a soft sound of pain as his shoulder loudly complains. Christ. He's taken more percocet today and done his old physio exercises for it but there's no denying it now: he's going to be in rough shape for this job. "Thanks," he says, taking his glass from Stephen, the scotch sliding smoothly down his throat.

"You okay?" Stephen's enquiry is innocuous enough, more about wanting to know where his lover's head is at.

Antony nods. "Tired. Not really looking forward to this job, although I'll be fine once we get there." He used to love working, lived for these jobs, the excitement, the adrenaline -- and it's all still there, when he's planning things out, once he's in situ, but right before, when all it means is leaving his boy again? Then he's just resentful.

"Last one for a while," Stephen points out, lifting one arm he settles in against the back of the sofa allowing him to stroke his fingers against the short hair at the back of Antony's head. "And when you come home, I'm all done, all yours, and we can look forward to our trips and lots of very quality time together"

"Mm. That's true," Antony says, settling into Stephen's touch. "Are you going to have anyone over while I'm away?" He's got security on Stephen 24/7 including an extra guy supposedly training with the concierge downstairs. Needs to remind everyone though that Stephen might have any of his castmates over or with him at any point.

"I don't know, I doubt it, we're doing stupid hours in these last few days, and once I'm done? I'm spending a day in bed." Stephen smiles, watching his lover relax, just a little, under his caresses. "Why? S'not like you don't hide all your secret squirrel stuff away before you go is it?"

"My secret squirrel stuff?" Antony gives Stephen a bemused look. "I don't know. I was just asking. Curious. Making conversation." He smiles, eyes crinkling.

Stephen arches a brow at that, but says nothing, instead he lifts his glass and takes a mouthful. The fingers of his other hand don't let up though, petting Antony.

"You're welcome to have people in though," Antony says, suddenly concerned he might have Stephen thinking otherwise. He closes his eyes for a moment. "You're making me sleepy," he murmurs, but it doesn't stop him from taking another drink of his scotch.

"I know, it's my home too," Stephen nods, he smiles softly when Antony's eyes close. "I want you relaxed, but not asleep, I was hoping for a tumble before you head off in the morning." Amusement colours his words.

"A tumble?" Antony's eyes open and he sets his glass down, reaching instead for Stephen and pulling him in for a kiss. "Define tumble."

Chuckling, Stephen returns the kiss, "Some kissing, some inappropriate fondling," he pauses to nip at Antony's lower lip, "Some sexy, slow sex..."

"I'm sure we can manage that," Antony murmurs, licking into Stephen's mouth and pulling him still closer. "Little make-out session on the couch..."

"Your romantic's showing." The accusation is whispered, it's an old tease, where Stephen lets his lover know he can be vulnerable, he can be softer and Stephen loves him for it. Twisting he presses into Antony's body, his hand sliding up to rest against the side of his lover's neck, his thumb brushing alongside a stubbled jaw.

Antony takes his time, tasting Stephen, letting their tongues tangle and tease and explore, his cock slowly filling, his lust, his desire kept simmering as he tamps down on the raging need behind it. One hand on Stephen's thigh, his thumb slides up the inside of his leg, tracing the inseam, getting closer and closer...

It's not something they indulge in very often, this easy, slow making out, and maybe they should, Stephen thinks. It's a counterpoint to their usual frenzy of almost violent passion. Humming his pleasure, Stephen slips one hand under and up his lover's tee, seeking out a nipple to toy with.

"Oh, fuck," Antony murmurs, grunting softly, his nipple seemingly connected straight to his cock. He licks at Stephen's throat, teases his tongue along his collar, sucking lightly at the skin just above it, leaving the barest of marks.

Stephen wriggles, pinching Antony's nipple harder. "'M gonna miss you," he breathes out, "So much..."

"Me or my cock?" Antony teases, letting his hand close over the bulge in Stephen's jeans, stroking him roughly through the denim even as his mouth moves to the curve of his throat, biting a little more sharply there, his own cock rearing up, leaking at the pinches to his nipple. "Christ..."

"You... I can shove any huge dildo up my ass," Stephen huffs out, laughter and sex colouring his words. "Can't replace you." He claws his hand up and draws his nails over Antony's chest. "I could never do that."

Antony curses under his breath, licking his lips as his cock throbs so fucking violently... He sits back to pull his tee over his head, a quick hiss of pain slipping out when he forgets all about his shoulder.

That noise pulls Stephen up. It's not like Antony to display pain, even when he's come home wearing bruises. "Tony?"

"It's just my shoulder," Antony says, pulling his t-shirt free and tossing it on the floor. "Just moved it the wrong way," he murmurs, already back to kissing Stephen, working on getting _him_ undressed.

Letting himself be distracted, Stephen figures that Antony is grown up enough to take care of himself. He helps Antony pull off his own top, then works open his jeans to push them down his hips, taking his shorts with them.

Kneeling up between Stephen's thighs to tug his jeans and underwear free, Antony just shakes his head, his gaze hot on his lover, his boy. "You are so fucking beautiful."

Stephen looks down at his own body; every line is hard, sculpted muscle layered in taut skin. There's not an ounce of spare fat on him, the direct result of months of training, of long hours working on a physically demanding set. He knows he looks good, and he revels in the knowledge that he's pleasing to his Sir. "Thank you," he murmurs. "S'all yours."

"Yeah, it is," Antony nods, moving from the couch only long enough to shed his own clothes and grab a small tube of lube from the side table. He doesn't slick his fingers yet though, preferring to make room for himself between Stephen's thighs, their cocks aligned, his mouth on his boy's again.

Hands on a body as hard as his own, Stephen kisses back, his tongue dancing with Antony's matching him at each move. When their lips part he whispers, "Let's take this to bed, we can relax," he suggests, aware that they're both likely to crash hard once they've slaked their need for each other.

"Good idea," Antony murmurs, more careful this time as he gets to his feet and holds his hand out to Stephen, leading him to the bedroom, the covers shoved back so they can easily pull them up later.

It doesn't take long, then they're back to pressing skin to skin, arms around each other, mouths moving to bite and kiss, little hummed out noises of arousal and pleasure. Stephen's cock rubs damp smears of precum along Antony's hip.

Antony moves down Stephen's body, licking, kissing, sucking as he goes. Tongue teasing around his nipples, dipping into his navel, lingering over hipbones before he heads for the prize.

When Antony comes home from this trip, he'll be able to leave marks everywhere his mouth lands - and Stephen cannot wait for that, for now though he settles for the delightful shivers as Antony's teeth and tongue tease his skin. He reaches down, his fingers finding Antony's hair which he pets his breath hitching.

Antony growls softly at the petting, his cock rearing up as he takes Stephen into his mouth, tongue swirling around the head.

"Oh fuck!" Stephen's head tilts back into the pillow, his throat bared, his heels dig hard into the bed and he fights the urge to thrust up, Antony's mouth is hot, wickedly talented. "Oh fuck!"

Taking his lover's cock deep into his throat, Antony buries his nose in those tight curls and then pulls off, taking Stephen back in a second late, just as deep, the movement repeated again and again

It's not going to take Stephen long if Antony keeps doing _that_ \- partly a hangover from yesterday's arousal, and partly from the foreplay thus far this evening. Having learnt his lesson some months ago, he's vocal in letting his lover know how close he is.

Antony pulls off just long enough to give Stephen permission before he's got his lover's cock lodged in the back of his throat, his face so tightly buried he can barely breathe.

The noises now are merely that, loud and incoherent. Sweat slicks Stephen's body, his abs crunched up hard as he bows up, face contorted as he orgasms hard, filling Antony's mouth and throat with his semen.

Antony groans when Stephen comes, a hard shiver running through him, his cock throbbing violently against the bed. He swallows and swallows again, pulling slowly off, the back of his hand used to wipe his mouth. Grins up at his lover.

Stephen is a mess, breathless, spent, limp. He smiles back at Antony. "Wow."

Antony's grin widens and he pushes back up Stephen's body, dropping down for a kiss. "That good, eh?"

"That good," Stephen nods, he rubs his hand along Antony's back. "It’s not something I got used to before you."

"You know what I think about that," Antony says with a smile, nudging his still-hard cock between Stephen's cheeks as he shifts between his thighs, making room for himself.

"I know," Stephen chuckles, "And I'm so very pleased to have found myself a man so sure of his dominance he doesn't need that bullshit." He splays his thighs, pulling them back to allow Antony all the room he needs.

Antony reaches for the lube and coats his cock. "You want me to open you up or just go slow?"

"Go slow, I should be fine," Stephen's hands move over Antony's shoulders, his arms, stroking, petting. "Want you..."

The lube goes back on the nightstand and Antony reaches between them, lining up and pushing in until the head pops through that first tight ring of muscle, a soft ragged groan spilling from his lips. God. He closes his eyes, stilling for a moment, certain he won't last long.

Even now, even after all the anal they do - Antony is always a tight fit - but he's used to it now, so Stephen takes a breath and bares down, his body instinctively allowing his lover to enter him. "C'mon Tony... fuck me..."

"I'm getting there," Antony says with a soft laugh, pushing deeper. Sinking into his boy. His cock throbbing violently in that exquisitely tight heat.

Humming out a pleased noise when Antony's hips meet his ass, Stephen draws his nails up his lover’s back knowing how Antony loves it. A hint of pain to go with his pleasure.

Normally he'd brace himself on his hands, but with his shoulder throbbing like it is, Antony stays down, close, groaning into Stephen's mouth as his boy marks his back. He moves into him again and again, taking his time, pushing back his rising arousal, the thought that this is it for a good week making him draw things out, savour each and every thrust.

"I love you," Stephen whispers between biting kisses, "so much," he turns his head to lick and bite across the meat of Antony's shoulder.

Antony groans, his cock throbbing more roughly, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter, his balls drawing up. "I love you too," he breathes, swallowing hard as he works to maintain his pace. "More than anything."

His mouth moves along Antony's jaw, still using his teeth as well as his lips. "Then cum in me, mark me as yours," he whispers. "Please Tony."

God. Like he could resist that. Antony thrusts in hard, harder, then shouts, his cock pulsing hot and thick, filling Stephen. Marking him.

Stephen makes a small sound of triumph when Antony orgasms, his fingers pressing tight into straining muscle, his mouth moving over salty skin. "Mine."

"Yours," Antony agrees, nodding, sinking down into Stephen and kissing him softly. "Forever."

The next few minutes are spent in intimate silence, kisses exchanged until Antony moves, and Stephen rolls into his side, tucking himself up against his lover.

"I'll call you if I can but this might be one of those jobs where I'm out of reach," Antony says softly, kissing the top of Stephen's head.

"For the whole trip?" Stephen's not happy about that, not at all. Not when he knows that Antony still has that ex-client issue hanging over him.

Antony nods. "I should be able to text you though. At least once or twice," he says, "but I don't want you worrying if you don't hear from me."

Pushing up onto his elbow, Stephen gives his lover a disbelieving look. "Sure, of course I won't be worrying if I don't hear from you," he drawls, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "After the shit that's been going on recently? I won't relax until you're home."

"At least I'm not gone that long," Antony points out, hating the idea Stephen might be stressing the whole time he's away. "And I'll do my best to call. Or text. Keep in contact somehow."

"Oh I know that," Stephen concedes, settling back down again, his cheek to Antony's chest, the steady thump thump of his lover's heart beat beneath his ear. "But you're delusional if you think I don't worry about you when you're gone." _Especially given I hardly know what it is you do..._

"I know you do," Antony says, rubbing his fingers through Stephen's hair and over his scalp. "But I've got Marcus at my back and Dhimitër's with us on this one, so it's a good team."

"Even so," Stephen yawns and rubs his cheek against Antony's chest, loving the way his chest hair scritches. "Promise you'll come home safe."

"I promise," Antony says, even though he knows it's the one promise he might not be able to keep some day. "Cross my heart."


End file.
